


Reflections

by scuttlingclaws



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Angst mostly, F/M, I love their dynamic so much, i can't write long fics sorry!, some cutesy fluffs popped in, will sporadically update when i feel like it lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23833537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scuttlingclaws/pseuds/scuttlingclaws
Summary: Even though his hands were the ones that killed his mother she still believed in him and she loved him. A collection of drabbles.
Relationships: Ishtar/Yurius | Julius
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't write anything long lmao. I always write micro/flash fiction for original works and I'm just so used to operating below 1k words and trying to resolve plots in small, neat lil boxes. One day I'll write a chapter fic, but that day is not today.

The trouble with being able to recognize when Julius or when Loptous was in control was the fact that Ishtar was forced to acknowledge that she saw less and less of her love and more and more of the dark dragon that had possessed him. She had been lucky to find him in a lucid moment the day before, spending the evening with him in the way they most enjoyed: relaxing in the gardens at Belhalla. The two of them sat on the grass, weaving lavender and baby's breath into crowns like they did when they were children. Julius also insisted that Ishtar's came out much nicer than his did, despite the fact that he was the one who taught her brother and his sister how to do it; he always complimented her work, even when she tore up the petals by accident or got the flowers crooked. He hadn't been so lucid, so there, in such a long time.

But the temporary nature of his lucidity was always apparent come morning. Just as the sun rose, shining its morning light through the window of their chambers, illuminating the space it, too, shone a light on that which she could not ignore. Ishtar opened her eyes, stretching in the warmth of their bedroom, the fire roaring in its hearth. Julius, or Loptous, rather, sat before it, tossing something into the flames. Ishtar sat up, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and took a closer look.

Yesterday's blooms became today's kindling as he purposefully tore up the petals and flicked them into the hearth.


	2. Chapter 2

He wasn't sure why Ishtar was always so hard on herself, constantly pointing out the smallest tears and the slightest crookedness in the flowers she put together. It didn't matter to him if what she made was perfect; she always chased the unreachable high of arbitrary standards, only to be left within its shadow. Nothing was perfect, nothing ever was nor could anything ever be. But, Naga, if Ishtar wasn't damn close. He spent more time studying the way her nose wrinkled in frustration when she ripped a flower or misjudged its placement. It would have been easy to just let go, allowing Loptous to make a puppet out of him, but she made him want to hold on. Even though his hands were the ones that killed his mother she still believed in him and she loved him and all he wanted to do was stay here with her forever, grounded by the scents and sounds of Belhalla's gardens.

The secret to making the perfect flower crown was to craft it with love. He didn't believe his mother when she told him this, but she was right; even the droopiest, brownest, and driest flowers could be made into something remarkable when treated with care and tenderness. He watched Deirdre do just that so many times. She always made her best work with him and Julia, just like he always made the prettiest crowns when he was with Ishtar.

When he finished, he placed the crown on her head and was treated to a radiant smile. She commented on how quickly he put it together and he let out a casual shrug and kissed her on the cheek.

He hoped the flowers wouldn't die before he could surface again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i can remember to post a chapter. as a treat.

She couldn't help but imagine him as a little puppy, begging for scraps of control beneath the dinner table; begging to feel and to see and to hear the world through ears that weren't stuffed with cotton. That was her Julius, the child who hid under his bed during particularly loud thunderstorms and ate all of his sweets before his mother even poured him his tea. Ishtar wondered if what little he got would be enough to continue to sustain the man she loved. He was tired, he told her, and usually in tremendous pain when he would surface. How much longer would he be able to hold on? She tried not to consider that possibility - that he was shivering and starving, just skin and bones and withering away as Loptous gorged himself on what was once his free will.

**Author's Note:**

> follow my twitter UwU @juliusvelthomer  
> also hmu if you wanna join the julius fan discord server


End file.
